Merla
Merla reaches in to her pack, producing a dull gray stone that appears to be on fire. She holds it before her as if it isn't wreathed in flame, however, and releases it. Rather than falling, the stone slowly begins to orbit around her head.
She removes a 6 inch polished iron hoop from a pouch at her side. She incants a prayer to Wee Jas as she slowly sets it down around her hair. She removes it, and a shimmering crown of force appears upon her head in its place. It seems to twist and oscillate when the light from the stone plays over it. A barely visible shield of force projects forward from it.
She turns to Zeus.
"You. Warforged are marvellous creations. Living, speaking history! Walking among us! You'll still remember this journey long after your friends and I are dead and buried, won't you?" She smiles, clearly thinking that Zeus should find this uplifting rather than sad.
"I don't recognize your design, though. You are a bit scuffed, and your finish is scratched in places, but that looks like battle damage... very little sign of natural wear and tear. You must be quite new. How old are you, marvellous creation?"
She approaches him and runs a finger over his segmented armor plates, trailing down over the track mechanism on his arm. She intones another prayer, and Zeus is suddenly hit by a sensation that something vast and beautiful and unknowably old is
watching him with interest. He feels a rush of pride and self-admiration, his past accomplishments flashing past his eyes, followed with a momentary sense of future great deeds he is yet to perform. He feels as if he can do
anything.